


Death, Famine, War and the Fourth.

by Perelka_L



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Mindless mixing of whatever you find in Bible with Good Omens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelka_L/pseuds/Perelka_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>White Horse changed its Master more often than one would suspect.<br/>But not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death, Famine, War and the Fourth.

There are always supposed to be Four of them, Death and the rest. War and Famine were always there, always had their place of Horsemen, so you could say it's Death, War, Famine and White one.

White horse often changed its owner.

 

First one was Conquest. Black crown touching long, white hair was his goal and was giving his life a sense. One could say he was the strongest, despite being nothing more but white smoke of whispers of Greed and Pride in humans' ears.

He infuriated War. She wanted battle and he wanted it to end, to finish it with one party dissatisfied, craving revenge. He infuriated War because there never was one without the other.

She pointed her blood-stained sword at him and he put on his crown, shadow falling on his grey eyes. They fought and humans around them fought too, steel against steel, steel against skin, teeth against skin.

When everybody were dead, War was watching White horseman's figure stained in perfect, perfect red fall. Ash-white covered in bloody red. After few minutes Conquest stood up, regarded War for few moments and then threw his dark crown under her feet. When she looked up, he wasn't here anymore.

Famine merely watched from the distance. Death took what belonged to him. Soon enough they felt something leave them, Three of Four being incomplete. It hurt.

 

Second one was Pestilence.

It was a very hot day and War and Famine met accidentally in something resembling the city if not the destruction and smell of death. They were walking around when a beggar, noticed them, smiled and stood up.

"War and Famine, I assume?" He asked them kindly, white teeth showing. War and Famine were a little bit more than suprised and didn't manage to hide it, so beggar uncovered himself, dirty material falling to the ground, revealing perfectly white, thin body, covered in silver cuts and scars and healed wounds.

HIS NAME IS PESTILENCE, said voice around them and Pestilence bowed respectfully, HE WILL BE THE FOURTH.

Pest wasn't very much younger than them but funnily enough, he looked as if he was the oldest. Always a gentle smile, pale eyes darkened with equally pale shadows under them, often covered by his curled hair.

He was definitely less dominant than Conquest. Not the one thundering on, but not one for hiding in the shadows. Both and neither. Pest was an artist, his creativity flowing freely. He fought with humans from their insides, his little monsters and creatures crawling inside their veins and guts and both War and Famine were impressed. He was, after all, using God's creations in the finest way and that was impressive. He was patient, a trait that Conquest so often lacked, working slowly and carefully, always warning other's about his plans.

"I have an idea, my friends," He once told them when they met in the castle under siege. "My dearest Carmine, you might consider leaving Europe, I'm afraid." And War nodded but she didn't move far for curiousity was too big.

Black Death feasted in Europe and Pest with Famine danced together, hand in hand, on human corpses, thin skulls cracking under their heels. But then it was 1936 and Pest shook his head. His nails were darkening, his teeth gaining in yellow hue.

"I am no longer one of you, am I?" He asked them and Death replied NO, YOU ARE NOT.

War and Famine didn't know who was now the White Horseman, but when gases flowed on battlefields, when the bombs fell on Japan, when the iron started to rust underneath the surface of earth, all this time War could swear she could hear Conquests' mad laughter.

When war ended and they met on the hill, Death said HERE COMES THE FOURTH and all of them watched Conquest come closer. No, no longer Conquest, his eyes smooth with drugs replacing the fire, fingers toxic but not greedy, lips filled with poison instead of all the sweet words he once used to make people feel  _want._

Third one was Pollution.

**Author's Note:**

> In Bible usually the White Horseman (at least, in mine) is Conquest, not Pest.  
> So I mixed the whole thing up, after all Good Omens is basically a Bible fanfic.  
> First work on AO3, woo!  
> Also: unbeta'ed. Tried to get rid of worst things but it's hard to check things on phone, I'm afraid. If you notice something, tell me~  
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> @EDIT: Fixed formatting up, also I changed dialouges, before changing they were introduced like they are in polish language, with dashes. Now they are introduced with quotation marks, as they should.


End file.
